


A Deserving Crescendo

by Kameiko



Series: Fix-It Because Of Chuck [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Banter, Beaches, Drama, Drinks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff, Food, Grief/Mourning, Hanging Out, Kissing, M/M, Romance, TRUE HAPPINESS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29034147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kameiko/pseuds/Kameiko
Summary: What they deserve is something they can only achieve in death.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: Fix-It Because Of Chuck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130012
Comments: 9
Kudos: 7





	A Deserving Crescendo

Back on Earth, on his hurt knees. Alone on Earth, dirt under his bitten to the nub nails. Adam Milligan came back _alone_ and _alive_ on _Earth_ in front of _his_ church. No longer disappeared into some non-existential plain of Chuck’s head that The Empty would look upon in envy knowing they had no claim to that mental chaos of despair but here…this mudball place of a planet he can freely smile or cry, if there’s anything worth crying over now. He should feel grateful that he is soulful again, become envious of his brothers knowing that they have each other with their laughter and feel-good nauseous crap, but he’s not. He feels, for the better lack of words: empty inside…angry…tearful…a despair that can’t be healed.

He knows which specific church he’s at. Yes, there are many, many churches and cathedral’s all over the world that represent the almighty _St. Michael_ , but this one…this one’s different. This is where the act of betrayal towards humanity and feelings visually known. He remembers the look on _his_ face…Michael’s pathetic _sad_ puppy archangel face when he started seeing his hands disappeared. He wants to be mad, throw stones at the windows of the church. Show some rage and make him appear for breaking something precious to _mortal dad_. Hard as he might with the very pickings of one that embedded itself in the dirt, he couldn’t even throw it two feet in front of him. He yells to the sky that this is all _their_ fault. The Winchesters, that Jack guy or whatever his name is, and Chuck, the douchebag of a deadbeat dad. Oh, he hates Chuck. Standing up he stomps his way through the grounds and slams open the church doors. As expected, books are still open and spread across the aisles. He picks one up and sees the _daddy’s boys’_ words written by man plain as day for the human race to worship. He throws it at the altar where the Eucharist laid on top, watching it topple over with a clank, mocking him when it rolls over to touch his fingers.

He throws it behind him, paying no mind to the echoes of the clashing metal against the hardwood floor. “Family sucks.” He slumps his head and shoulders, not meaning the words that just transpired out of his mouth, watching his tears fall onto one of the pages in front of him that depicts his archangel with blonde hair and pale skin. He smiles in envy at how the characteristics are all _wrong,_ and just made to look right for humans to serve a jackass. Adam reiterates the _Daddy’s Boy_ message in his head again as a good reminder. Angels weren’t these benevolent beings with white angel wings and blonde pretty boys. They’re brainwashed warriors for a God that didn’t take care of them or lead them to the watering hole to drink out of. Left to fend out what’s right and what’s wrong. Nobody to teach them… _Michael_ …nobody to teach Michael how to be his own person that requires a rank of self-respect out of his father’s shadow. Adam tried to show him the way. God, did he _try_ too. Hell, things got to the point where Lucifer’s rebellion made sense. Telling Michael that for his own brain to register ended up being the repetitive sounds of an AOL Dial-Up tone.

_Another day, another dollar working in a backwater pizza joint in the middle of nowhere. Adam insisted this job is important with their living costs, and he really didn’t want to spend the rest of his life sleeping in abandoned buildings for ghosts might try to eat his soul. Michael rolls his eyes. “Adam, I assure you I wouldn’t let a feral ghost eat you.” The ghosts would stand no match against his power and the protection wards he placed in the building, also known as salt, will prevent any unnecessary possession or attack._

_Adam holds his finger up to the cocky and arrogant prick. “Excuse me. How many people know that I have someone inhabiting who really doesn’t want to be found, and I figured I could use this shared time we have for a couple of millennia to save up for my own place.”_

_“I could just snap my fingers and have people hand you over the money you need to get a house and finish medical school, not that you need it. You’ve already proven how smart you are to the Winchesters and me.” Michael doesn’t understand his human’s tactics. First, he wants to eat these things called pizza, then he wants to show him the ropes of how to live in a society that think he’s either a fable or not, and lastly, he’s not stopping his infernal whistling while shaking his ass. He coughs and looks away, finding the white grime covered wall more interesting with every second that’s passing. Oh my Dad, why are Earth years maliciously slow? He does want Adam to show him the ropes but…an archangel working a pizza joint seems a little below his paygrade._

_Adam puts a larger pepperoni pizza in the oven, completely pretending he doesn’t see the way Michael is looking at him with those side eyes. Once in he makes a run to the back to get something from the freezer that his manager asked for. He stops and lets out a breath of air, seeing it appear before him. “I see this, but I don’t feel cold.” Wonders of having angel grace as his bedside manner and there’s the laws and physics surrounding the ability of needing to breathe when possessed by divinity._

_Michael shrugs, not understanding how a minor thing could amaze anyone. It’s just cold air…something he doesn’t know how to feel or begin to experience. Temperatures are complicated and irrelevant. “Comes with the package deal.”_

_Adam gives him a pity look and small smile to top off the icing on the cake. “Hard to believe your dad didn’t want you to know what a cool breeze would feel like.” He gathers what he needs and makes his way back to the front, Michael tailing behind him. He thinks about how Chuck made the nature in his image, passed down to Lucifer…the only thing the second oldest brother of Michael cared about. He scoffs at the fact that Lucifer and Michael have a relationship that resembles that of a true rivalry with imagery attachments. Adam doesn’t know if he should be thankful he’s the third child._

_Here’s a thought that crosses Michael’s mind: he could extract his grace temporarily to satisfy his curiosity to see what Adam sees, and why the big brother didn’t get what the old favorite had. Temptation borderlines insanity in this world, and there’s a high chance he wouldn’t want to leave it once the experience hits him. However, he would be vulnerable to his enemies, specifically divinities higher than his ranking, but Chuck wouldn’t be able to see how happy he is, because he’s never experienced the trueness of it. Yes, Chuck can track Michael’s grace as easy as a demon trapping themselves in a Devil’s Trap, but he wouldn’t be able to sense any of the physical activities and sensations that go through his spinal cord to meet in the registration section of his brain. Power of individuality._

_“Don’t even think about it.” Adam waves the pizza cutter in his partner in pizza crime’s face. “I know that look, Michael. You want to do something stupid in order to prove that humans are dumb, or I am just superior to you in every way.” Now it’s Adam’s turn to be a bastard. He winks at Michael and goes back to cutting a customer’s order up before boxing it._

_Michael chuckles. “We’ve spent way too much time together in Hell, kid.” Sure, he could blame that, or they share each other’s brain that stores their memories. Michael didn’t like sharing his and kept his book closed…until Adam didn’t stop poking his brain with parables of trusting one another. Circle of a two-way trust…with just two people holding hands in a unified understanding of friendship._

_“Maybe you could be like Magneto and block out your brainwaves or angel waves with some kind of helmet. That way I will never know when you want to be up to no good.” Still wouldn’t work. Michael would have to physically take over Adam’s body by force to get from point A to B, and the other might not like that very much._

_“I refuse to pretend I understood that reference.” He did a little bit. When they were staying in a church for a night, Adam made Michael watch some nun’s hidden stash of old X-Men movies. He liked all of them, even the horrible one’s that Adam’s face had bewilderment written all over it once the “horror” movie marathon ended. He tried to get Michael to stop watching after the third movie, but no, they needed to be watched for…”education purposes”. Consider themselves both educated. After that night, Adam refused to let him watch another movie again in fear that he might start wanting to watch the bad tasting ones for continued education, unless there’s…other elements involved. An audacity that didn’t happen._

_Adam winks at Michael and brushes by his shoulder with the closed pizza box in hand. “Michael, I don’t bite, you know. I mean, I could if you want me to.”_

_“You can’t touch me in this condition.” Lie. That’s a downright lie. Adam hasn’t forgotten about the time at the diner where his other half picked up one of the fries, staring at it with utter disgust before throwing it back on the plate. Food touched by an angel never tasted so heavenly. Jokingly wishes inside his head that he would do that again for angelic food porn pictures purposes. Doesn’t sound like a good idea if the patrons all around them suspect Adam to be a crazy person or just have Michael erase everyone’s memories, since he’s so good at doing that…not so much closing his mind when he needs to. Don’t want to stumble through those private doors again._

_“How about we go into one of my soul room memories and test that theory?” Adam wiggles his eyebrows, close to patting Michael’s ass._

_Michael coughs and moves away from the grabbing hand. He’s not objecting the offer of experiencing his first kiss, but this place is disgusting with the peeling of the wallpaper, the grease all over the floor, and the excuses he keeps telling himself to deny what he wants…desires…both deserve…forgetting they could do this in a mental room. “Another day. You have a delivery to make.” Michael nods his head over to where his boss is pressing the button, demanding him to get his head in the game and go make the deliveries. Adam complies and gives Michael a look that speaks on volumes that this talk is far from over._

Adam chokes up at the memory, placing his head in his hands, screaming himself into another exasperated fit. They’ve never experienced their first kiss. All the time in the cage, the pizza joint, abandoned buildings, and everywhere in between they held their distance. Michael did with his body, Adam’s flirtatious mouth didn’t. He wanted the archangel; he never denied those feelings in himself. What’s he supposed to do now that Michael is gone? The bunker is there for him to go back to and call it home anytime. He swallows the lump in his throat at the thought of going back there. Nothing ever good comes out of that unholy place.

“I have to try.” Adam pulls himself together after the encouraging speech he’s talking himself into, making his way to the back where the collection boxes are stored. Taking a deep breath he exhales and breaks the box lock open. Inside is a large sum of dollar bills. Enough for a trip there and to wherever else he needs to go. “Forgive me, the new father, for what I am about to do.”

He steals _all_ the money. Making his way out, he doesn’t notice the priest blocking his leave, causing him to bump right into him. He quickly stuffs the money in his pocket and moves passed the defender with a smile. “Sorry about the mess. I did some…light reading.” Out the door and into the rain he goes. He doesn’t turn around to see if he’s being chased, completely unaware of the forgiveness being thrown his way.

_Hell quakes and the chains of Lucifer’s cage rattles. Adam looks up, covering his eyes due to the sheer energy of massive light in front of him that is in the shape of a…door? “What the…” Adam steps forward, reaching out towards the open hope. He can hear his imagined seagulls on the other side, the sound of ocean waves, and a crying call from the inside of his mind. He’s thrown backwards against the cage, the happiness disappearing, and Michael is standing there breathing rapidly and shaking his fists._

_“You weren’t supposed to leave your oceanfront resort. I have to protect you. I…”He collapses to his knees in despair. The fear of loneliness stretching across his features. Adam can only watch his other half go on about being left alone here with no one. The same feelings Lucifer had when he spent his time here torturing Sam._

_Adam leans down to Michael’s level and places a hand on his shoulder. “Michael, look at me.” Michael doesn’t. He tries again with a softer tone, “Michael….I’m not going to leave you here. You’re my, in the most cliché way possible: my guardian angel.” Michael did everything he could to protect Adam against Lucifer, even made a deal to take on the Cain and Abel play with a few alterations. Adam is Michael’s version of Seth, the third eldest brother of the original duo that everyone forgets about. Michael didn’t forget his underdog._

_“Leave…together?” Michael doesn’t know how to process this. How does he? He never realized how alone he felt till he started to figure out nobody going to come rescues them. They were left to rot here for all eternity in this cage, being tortured by the mere essence and thoughts coming out of a stone box. The cage rattles again, laughing, taunting Adam for his fruitless effort._

_Adam ignores the insensitivity and extends his hand. “Once we get out of here, I want you to take me to the burger and pizza joint where I grew up. They have some of the best burgers on the planet, and I want you to try one, but hands off my fries. Nobody ever touches my fries and live to talk about it.”_

_Michael grunts out in bitterness, “You joke about things I can’t taste in the same way you humans do.”_

_“Then have the courage in yourself to prove me wrong about your tastebuds.” He knows angels can only taste things on an extreme science level, but he wants the proof. Anything to get his ass in gear and out of this cage. The longer they stay here, the chances grow slimmer when the thoughts of God turning his existential period up a notch and slam the gates closed again. Back to square one where everyone’s in their happy, bubbly torture place of their own doing._

_Michael doesn’t buy into the innocent amusement and understood the subtle undertones that Adam is insinuating. “Your only wish for me to leave is for food. At a place where humans go to eat together.”_

_“Yes! Now you’re getting it! Just you and I, Michael. At a pizza joint, having food together, and talking about our future.” Oh, he really doesn’t know what he’s unintentionally projecting. Michael finds this tale…unflattering but curious of the human customs of “dates”. If he agrees, he’ll be forced to watch his partner consume unhealthy amounts of junk food…paining him to know that his vessel is destroying himself from the inside out._

_“I will go out on this…date with you.” Michael stands up, eying the door behind him to still see it’s shining in all the glory of freedom._

_Adam didn’t think about this situation as one of those things, but whatever gets them out of the cage and back into normalcy. Who knows? Maybe this will lead somewhere that doesn’t involve another song and dance apocalypse for them and they could live in a beach house far away on another planet for all eternity. They did spend almost 1,100 years together, so being used to each other’s mindful company is now part of pack deal; or they’ve both gone completely mad without knowing it. What’s a little madness amongst roommates?_

Adam stares at the locked door of the bunker’s entrance. He knocked for maybe ten minutes straight, but nobody came to answer. He carts a hand through his hair and wishes Michael to be here to give him whatever memories his brain couldn’t remember. Props of having a storage angel as a sidekick. With no cellphone on hand and he didn’t have the Winchester’s numbers memorized, so payphones were out of the question, and with that, he’s back at the beginning of first base again. Sighing, he shoves his hands in his pockets and makes his way down the steps, stopping when he hears a click behind him. Turning he notices an opened camouflaged box door poking out of one the sidewall. Curiously, he sticks his hand in to pull out a key and a folded note. It’s from Sam.

_Adam,_

_What I am about to write to you will sound off coming from me, but knowing how much you’ve lost, I think you will understand my words and my irrational writing. Liking what I have to say is another story. From my own personal feelings I like to extend my hand to say that I am sorry. Dean never gets the chance to officially say what you truly deserved to hear to your face. You will hear them though when you reach heaven, I’ll make sure of it. I know my words sound condescending, meaningless, and you’re angry with everyone, because they’re continuing on with their lives without you or know you exist. There are questions you have that I don’t have the answers for. I don’t even know if you would ever come back here. If you’re reading this, then my lookout spell worked. You may have guess from this that I no longer reside here._

Adam turns the key in the lock. No longer hesitating to open the door and step inside. 

_All of mine and Dean’s things are gone. There might be traces of dog hair or a wet fur smell left behind. I would apologize for the dry sense of humor, but it wants me to tell you to get a new companion. One that can’t physically attach itself to your soul. Dean says that animals will do that anyways. I believe he’s right when our dog appeared. I do have to tell you about the one time he ended up being able to talk to dogs like out of a Dr. Doolittle movie. You had to be there to understand it. In retrospect, please don’t be looking for any spells that will let you talk to cats or something. The world is finally at peace, and most hunters just want to deal with the normal crazy. Feel free to activate one that would send all monsters to the empty or purgatory if you come across it. Just make sure you don’t end up bringing back something undead._

Pushing aside the fact Adam has no idea what Sam means by the last line, he contemplates about the former. “A new companion…” Adam steps inside to see the place has been cleaned from top to bottom. No signs of anyone’s takeout all over the war table, or cleaning supplies littering the kitchen floors, making the walls smell like five seas worth of bleach. Probably from all the blood splattering cleaning his brothers did. He opens the fridge door to see a lone beer, that’s still surprisingly cold, sitting there…just for him. He takes it and goes back to main foyer, plopping down in a chair…taking notice of the engraving of letters on the table.

_You probably noticed the letterings. A semi-useable pun would for me to say that we were truly a “Men of Letters”, but only works when our mother’s initials don’t take in residence does it make sense. I took the liberty of placing a knife next to them. If you call this place your home, carve your initials into the wood. You’re part of the family, Adam. Even if we don’t deserve you. You’re family and this doesn’t mean for it to end in blood. Please take care of yourself and find peace where you need it. Part of me wishes you the best at hunting and the other wishes for you to move on. Good luck._

_Sam_

The knife lays under the lamp light. He picks it up and examines it to see what Sam sees, but really, it’s just an ordinary sharp steak knife, nothing special or shows any signs of being an heirloom. “How peculiar.” He sets it back down, wanting to make better use of his brain cells and tasks his mind towards the meaning of the letter. Sam acting out of character by giving him the bunker, that’s not his legally to start with, wanting him to take care of it, and get a dog that he can call his own companion. In return? Adam assumes the only remaining member of his family would stop by every few months to see if he exists here? He has more than enough money to sustain himself for a month before he needs to think about getting a job. He bites his lip at the thought of going back to work in order to keep on living a life that ripped itself apart to only sew what it needed to live as a meatsuit back together. He can’t help feeling more alone, and the heavy weight of loneliness doesn’t leave him.

_Adam stares at Michal’s with a hurt look. “Michael, you’re pacing around in my head. Please talk to me, not shut me out.”_

_“I helped the Winchesters. Father is going to find out and call me unforgivable and kill me. What am I to do, Adam? I failed him as being a faithful son. I need to redeem myself…I-” Michael stops when Adam grabs his hand. The touch feels warm, nice, and with reason when the thumb strokes over his. Not the kind he’s not meant to feel due to being an angel, but the kind a human would get when their heart flutters and stomachs turn into knots. He likes it._

_Adam’s hurt turns into an optimistic smile. “Be happy, Michael. It’s what you deserve.” Adam leans in to kiss Michael, to get rid of the sadness only to be ruined by the sound of a snap._

“Thank you, stomach. I am well aware that I need to go into town to get food.” Adam throws the beer bottle in the trash next to him. A little buzzed after one bottle of the light kind. Always the lightweight his family had always told him. Didn’t help his image with being just a kid and breaking into the liquor cabinet to get the cheapest of the cheap. He scored some major points in the grounding committee’s department. From there on he learned to stay away from the _finer_ things in life.

In town he manages to pick as many things as possible he needs to make his own food and carry by foot. He could call a cab, then that would give away the secret hideout, and no one could know about that. Lawmakers, worse than the monster kind, might try to tax him on property or have him arrested for squatting. Shaking his head at the overthinking thoughts, he goes to checkout, placing the items on the conveyor belt and waits for the cashier to finish scanning and bagging his groceries.

Once he finishes paying, he’s out the door with homemade pizza on his mind! “Alright, now to make the three-mile journey back. Lucky for me there are no hills to tread up.” He walks and takes a look inside his bag to make sure the tomato sauce is placed on the bottom. He doesn’t want his bread to be crushed. Stops when he accidentally bumps into an older woman. He quickly apologizes and picks up the groceries that fell out of her hands. Her necklace attachment sways in front of Adam’s line of vision when she bends over to help.

“Nice pendant.” He stands up, juggling the remainder of her groceries in his hands, and walks to her car. She tells him thank you for the random act of kindness and talks about how this… _St. Michael_ and his prayer helps keep her afloat. Helps her fight the personal demons that sway her moves in life, and how the almighty sword stabs what’s in the darkness that she doesn’t like.

The heaviness of Michael’s wings metaphorically graces him. He closes his eyes and remembers the time when Michael fought off the nightmares that plagued him when he would sleep. He tiredly uses his free hand to rub his eyes. He just wants to sleep and dream about those protective wings again. The older woman notices the fatigue and apologizes for keeping him around this long for not many like to listen to her story about how Michael helps her. He tells her it’s not a big deal, and asks her does she still feel his presence of being her guardian? She takes a long pause, carefully constructing her answer in her head. Sure, he’s never physically there, but his grace…once...Adam fears that she’s going to say no, but she doesn’t. She smiles widely and takes off the piece of jewelry, and places it in Adam’s hand, making him close his fist around it. He needs the protection more than she does. He tries to argue that she doesn’t have to do this as this is her property and right to it, but she shushes him. With that, the conversation ends with her saying good-bye and hope to find the peace he’s looking for…like Sam’s letter.

He hates everything about today. When he gets back to the bunker, he angrily slams his groceries and the angelic item on the counter, causing the jar to bust open and make a leaking mess all over the tops and inside the bag where all his food is. He lets out a deep aggravated breath and gets the mop. He can hear Michael nagging in the back of his head to be more careful with his things and watch out for broken glass. He leans his head against the mop handle wishing for this berating to be real. Him leaning up against the wall behind him with his hands either in his pockets or crossed.

“I just want you here now.” Adam doesn’t know how many times a man can cry in one day. If there’s a record he’s sure to have broken it. “I just want my best friend back.” He _wants_ his angel. He _wants_ his angel. He _needs_ his angel.

His cries go unanswered because of course they do. The new God doesn’t partake in any of Earth’s problems and why should any of the remaining angels left cater to him? There’s an entire world of suffering out there, and Adam, the poor lonely man is crying for something that he never truly deserved in the first place. He shouts at the ceiling anyways, “I NEED _MY_ ANGEL!”

Keep screaming, no one’s going to answer. He does until his face turns blue, and he still screams till his throat becomes hoarse. He screams for Michael to come back to him. For Jack to do what’s right in his heart, and to grant him this one measly request. He wouldn’t. He never brought Dean back or the family would be here helping him get through his grief. His sobs turn into raw hiccups. “Please…I need you, Michael. I’m sorry we didn’t get to share anymore happiness together. You _have_ family. You _have_ me. I _care_ about you. I still do…I just…I want you here! I’ll give up my place in Heaven just for you to show up one last time.” His hiccups echo through the silence.

The pendant falls off the counter, landing in Adam’s open hand. His eyes widen at the intrusion, but he doesn’t push it away. He holds it close to his chest for a sense of a restful mind. Later sometime that day after he gets his head out of the wrong place, he decides he’s going to go back to the church to look for answers he might’ve missed. Anything to help him put his whatever he can with his mind at ease. First, he needs to eat, take a nap, and then make the last bus journey of the evening.

_They’re lying under the stars together, all the while listening to the sound of the late-night crickets and cicadas. Peaceful to Adam, confusing to Michael. The archangel finds the sounds of nature to be quite…annoying. He’s not like his brother, Lucifer, who would do anything to make sure the rose petals are blooming perfectly, and the bugs are doing their job on keeping the flowers healthy. He’s just…not that excited. Adam sees the bored look and turns on his side to face him. “Dealing with nature since the dawn of creation must’ve ruined your view of tranquility and aw.”_

_“We’re sitting in an open field with gnats biting at my face. What does that tell you?” Michael grunts and slaps one off._

_Adam chuckles. “We can always trade back after you finish smiting them. Can you do that? Snap your fingers and make all the bloodsuckers die?”_

_“I never had the need to.” He swats at another._

_“Change your mind now?” Another and another have taken prone to Michael’s light. “It’s the grace. You’re a beacon of hope for every insect that has wings.”_

_“That’s not funny.” One gets stuck in his ear. Adam is laughing at how Michael is moving his head around trying to get the buzzing pest out. “I will smite these devils!”_

_“Don’t blame your brother for God’s creation.” Adam continues to watch on in amusement. The other’s pain is just…entertaining._

_Swat. “But my brother DID create these things as a joke! He wanted to sick them on me!” That’s not the whole truth. A brother DID do him the unjust but it’s Gabriel behind the family funny business, and his sense of humor always…strung around Michael’s eardrums. Even in death his madness still haunts him and thinks he can outwit him in the “ringing in my ear” puns._

_Adam just smiles while the fireflies behind him start looming towards Michael. What a lighthouse for lost ships the archangel turned out to be._

Adam Makes sure to stuff the key back in its cubby hole, leaving it for the inevitable future, or Sam wants to discontinue his haste of his no contact clause and come back to say “sike! I never wanted to leave! Let’s be buddy-buddy for old time sakes! What you say kid? We still going to Wally-World?”. There’s even food and drinks good up to month and then some when the partaking begins. Maybe a nice bottle of brandy. With everything ready to go, an archangel around his neck, Adam takes the first bus he can get at a fair price to the place that makes the weight feel like the bottom of the Mariana Trench, and that would molt him into an explosive pancake.

“You came back.” A voice behind Adam causes him to jump in surprise. He turns to see the priest standing there with his hands folded behind his back and wearing an understanding smile. Adam makes his move to flee but is stopped by a gentle hand on his arm. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I know who you are, Adam Milligan, and I wish to speak to you in private.”

Adam looks next to him to see if he’s being punked by a SWAT church league squad, and this is all undercover just to get the collection money back. The priest laughs at his unsteady movements and assures him again, “I promise there is no one here to take you in. Now, please come in. I am sure you’re hungry, and I have just finished baking a pizza. Would you like a slice of pepperoni?” Still hesitating. The priest lets out a soft hum and continues his coaxing, “ _Michael_ tells me that pepperoni is your favorite? Am I wrong?”

Adam’s chin picks up. Michael… _tells_ …him? As in…now? Not past tense? He’s skittish but does follow him inside. They make their way through the cleaned-up area of the church. Adam apologizes for the state he and his better half left the place of worship. The priest waves him off and offers him a seat. “They’re just books, Adam. They can be replaced. You, on the other hand, can’t be.”

“You said that Michael talks to you?” Adam looks at him with skepticism. “How come you…and not me?” A piece of pizza on a plate is placed in front of him along with a glass of ice-cold sweet tea.

The priest sighs and gives him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Adam. His lifeforce does not will it to be here, because he can’t. He’s in a place…far from where you can contact him. The only things that linger here is his protective presence and a note.” The priest slides over a folded to Adam.

Adam opens it to see it’s written in Enochian. Intriguing and memorizing in what should be calmness not drainage. ”When Michael and I were in the cage we had some time to teach each other new things. Michael taught me how to read this angel language. I thought it to be silly at first when all hope seemed to be loss…Now, still seems silly…since all my hope IS lost.” His eyes grew tired and weary from the onslaught of information.

The priest is curious about the exchange. “What did you teach him in return?”

Adam responds embarrassingly, “…How to make a divine breakfast.” Not the brightest hour, but better than teaching him about the many ways of being able to kill and carve up a body he learned from his time in high school when taking an anatomy class. Didn’t want to give Lucifer anymore _innovated_ torturous ideas.

_Adam,_

_Expressing words in a matter of writing is very new to me as I had no need for a writing pen. I’ve always been the type that just gives orders, and have my fellow good brothers and sisters follow in the footsteps of our father. No longer do I take on that role of being a shepherd. The good son now has to do what he needs to in order to keep the one he loves alive._

“You may stay here as long as you need to.” Adam doesn’t take notice of the priest’s tone that sounds like a _final_ good-bye. That’s because to the priest there’s going to be no turning back after the letter. All that remains living in the church after tonight will peacefully go to the nothing.

_That means I’ll make a bargain with father. I will side with him. Give him what he wants in return that I get you back. I want to be sorry for sacrificing your brothers and my nephew to that mad piece of divine scum that’s related to me, but I’m not. You told me you didn’t know them. You only met them once, and they didn’t care about you. They can be right all they want. They don’t know how I feel about you. How much this hurts me to do. Would you hate me for it?_

Adam rubs his face. He wouldn’t hate him. He loves him too much to be pulled down in that spiral. “No, but I would be hurt.” An open window behind him lets in a cool nightly breeze. He gets up and takes a look outside. Beauty enhances the stars above him and the bugs making their nightly calls in front of him. He leans over with his chin resting in his hands.

_If you have received this letter that means my bargain with father has failed. I know what that means for you. I can’t stop you from not living your life, because I know you wouldn’t move on. We’ve spent too much time together in Hell that it would be hard for both of us to come to terms that there’s no together on Earth. Where I currently reside is a nothing residence that’s far from the Heaven you deserve._

Adam goes to a pew and lies down on it. Hands folded across his chest and eyes staring at the old-fashioned wooden support beams above him. Sun has set and hours move quickly, his eyes are growing weary, and the lights have turned off a while ago. The priest and those of the cloth have long left, not wanting to be caught up in what’s about to happen next. They only have a little idea what the essence of the archangel left behind will do to Adam, and fear for the young man’s health; but this is not their interfering call. Not their say in his fate. All the choices people make in their lives that deal with their own grief is that of their own volition. Nobody can claim and take that way. After all, wishes that come true from nothing eventually take their fulfilled claims _back_ to nothing.

_I have left you a small amount of my lifeforce in this church. Fitting with the name and the protection that it now gives me the calling of sanctuary. When you walk into this building it tethers itself to your soul. Only to let go when you leave the grounds. Disrupts the guidance and has to start the alignment chart all over again. By the time your body is found by anyone in the morning you will be in an eternally peaceful sleep, and my traces will disappear. No signs of a pulse in and around you. This is all I have left to say to you, Adam. I hope whatever choice you make is the right one that works for you and only you. Put yourself first before anyone else. I genuinely want that for you._

_I love you, Adam. Part of me wishes to not see you sooner._

_Michael_

Morning comes and the priest finds Adam’s lifeless body lying curled up on the pew with his hand around his pendant. His face has a smile plastered on it. He sighs and says a prayer for the newly deceased. “Go in peace.”

Peace he went. Adam opens his eyes to the sound of ocean waves and a blurry tall figure with its back turned to him. He rubs his eyes, waiting for them to adjust properly. When they do, he makes out a creature with long black wings with a dark blue tint in them spread out to the song of the wind. Adam stretches his hand for him, placing it on the pale shoulder in front of him. The touch feels… _warm_ and _familiar_. The figure turns its head to him, metallic blue human eyes piercing at him. Adam doesn’t look away or move his hand.

“So, you didn’t head my warning. Do you still find me attractive knowing my true form? Or knowing I wanted your brothers to remain dead?” Michael turns to face Adam.

Adam shakes his head. “You’re beautiful, Michael.” In Adam’s dreams he always wondered what Michael would’ve actually look like, but he couldn’t ever get a proper image. Michael said jokingly one time that Adam would’ve died seeing what he truly is even in as harmless a dream of an angel can be. Adam laughs at the previous thoughts of Michael having bird like feathers that had the sun shining off of them whenever in the darkest of places.

“Am I? My fangs and oddly shaped humanoid body don’t scare you?” Michael looks down and feels the sand in between his toes. “I get to feel the sand…it’s hot and sticks in between my webs.”

“It’s just a memory of what the sand felt like to me.” Adam lets out a laugh at the way Michael is kicking his feet in the wet sad. “I thought you have the grace of an angel. What changed? Got sand in your shoes?”

Michael stops and gives him an unamused look. “My voice can do drastic things if provoked by such….trivial manners.”

“You’re dead, Michael. You can scream your high heaven pitch to me all night long, and I will still love you with my busted ear drums.” He winks and takes the moment of awkward opportunity to lean on the others chest.

“Oh, you…hmmm….” Michael tilts Adam’s head up to meet his eyes. He rubs his shortened clawed finger under his human’s chin. The love and admiration really are there…

Adam takes the initiative while Michael’s distracted by his thoughts and kisses him. A surprise moan escapes. Adam likes the sound and does what he can to make Michael do those noises again. He sings and shows it by wrapping his arms around _his_ human, bringing him as close as he could to where their tongues and teeth fully meet. Adam expected something like a fork or maybe a spoon shape weirdness but nope this one’s a normal looking human tongue and tastes like a French kiss with saliva. Michael goes out of his way to make sure his sharpened canine fangs don’t accidentally bite down on his poor lover. Adam appreciates the care.

Michael pulls away first. Proudly smirking knowing that he’s not out of breath like his lover. “Perks of being an archangel. I don’t need to become…breathless.”

“Don’t get cocky with your talk about beauty. You didn’t take it away that easily, and we’re both dead. I’m just…simulating my out of breath.” Adam blushes in embarrassment as he bounces on the soles of his feet. Hands behind his back, looking past Michael to see that the stands stretch on for what seems like miles, an ending nowhere in sight. “Were you waiting for me here this whole time?”

“No. I made us a beach house.” Michael snaps his fingers, and the beach house that Adam stayed at during his times with his mother. Adam holds his breath, tearing up as he remembers the fun memories of each summer here. His mother’s scolding for not putting on sunscreen or the one summer he did, but he ended up being allergic to it. Michael mistakes his tears of happiness as pain. He goes to snap the house away, but Adam takes his hand, rubbing soothing circles around Michael’s knuckles. The archangel is confused at the ministrations. “Adam? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to be painful. I can’t bring your mother here, but we can make new memories together…Empty can’t force us to dream of despair with our two minds….are you still ok with that? I can make you wake up in the darkness and have-“

Adam stops him from talking with a quick kiss and aftertaste smile. “I want to be here. Let’s go inside, Michael. Time to have our blissful sleep in _our_ nothingness.”

Michael agrees and they walk through the open doorway of _their_ deserving light.


End file.
